EXT. DIRT ROAD. DAY
A dirt road separates two distinct areas. On one side, a field of vegetation, not yet grown. On the other, a copse of trees, surrounded by grass. A whimpering man lays curled into a ball in front of the trees. He wears a tattered grey vest of the 1940's, grey suspenders, and dusty brown shoes. He is TREVOR.
SUPER
AN HOUR EARLIER
CUT TO:
EXT. DIRT ROAD. DAY
Trevor stands, a cloth BACKPACK over his shoulders with a modern zipper. A STRAY KITTEN sits on his shoulder. He whistles and pets it. Different trees and grass surround him but he is still on the same side of the road.
INSERT:
A blurred NEWSPAPER in the distance. A baseball sized ROCK in front of Trevor. A GLASS BOTTLE partially hidden by grass.
Trevor pulls out a transistor RADIO with many dials. He sits down, unfolds the antenna, and sets it down beside him. The kitten jumps from his shoulder, lies on the ground, and falls asleep. Trevor smiles at it, closing his eyes.
RADIO (V.O.)
....Americans joining the fight, in a superior military position. Nazi forces have seen an estimated downfall in number somewhere around...
The radio fades. WHITE NOISE crackles and grows until Trevor turns the radio off. CRUNCHING GRAVEL in the distance. Trevor's EYES flash open. A man walks into frame dressed moderately well, with spectacles on and a thick mat of facial hair. He is MARCUS. He stares at Trevor for a few moments, and then steps in front of him.
MARCUS
Have a bite. Go on
Marcus pulls a faded BISCUIT TIN from his messenger bag, ready to open it.
TREVOR
Not hungry.
He replaces the tin, confused.
MARCUS
You need a ride?
TREVOR
I need to get over there.
Trevor points to the other side of the road. A modern tractor drives in the distant part of the field. Marcus looks across, and when he turns back, Trevor's hand is still pointing, his eyes glazed.
MARCUS
Can you walk?
TREVOR
Yes. Why?
MARCUS
Just head across. Can't be but a few feet.
TREVOR
(As if this should be obvious)
Not till the war's over! No sir. I'm a protestor, the political kind, and this here is my protest you've stumbled upon.
Marcus kneels down, examining Trevor's face.
MARCUS
What's getting over there got to do with war?
TREVOR
That's what they want you to think, isn't it?
Marcus stares blankly.
TREVOR
It's not for the feeble minded. Don't concern yourself with the likes of giants.
Marcus rises abruptly, irritated.
MARCUS
Giants?
Trevor nods.
MARCUS
It's stupid.
(BEAT)
What's over there needs reaching?
TREVOR
Where I need to be. Why else would it matter?
MARCUS
You don't make a damn bit of sense.
TREVOR
It's simple. War ends, I cross. Peaceful protest.
MARCUS
But who knows about it?
Trevor counts on his fingers until he gets confused and gives up.
TREVOR
Me and you, and since two can't keep a secret the Fuhrer will find out soon enough. Problem solved. Then I can go back home; be famous. No need to overcomplicate. When she sees... she'll be downright pleased. We can be one big family.
(A softness now)
Isn't it grand?
MARCUS
What's your name?
TREVOR
Trevor. Yours?
MARCUS
Marcus. And I'm afraid I must be going. I've a prior engagement.
Marcus turns to leave, but Trevor stands, indignant. 
TREVOR
Shake my hand at least.
MARCUS
(Turning around)
What?
TREVOR
Shake my hand. Be a gentleman about it.
MARCUS
All right.
They shake hands, and CRACKING BONES are heard. Marcus drops his hand calmly. Trevor clutches his hand to his chest, whimpering.
TREVOR
AAHH! It's broken!
MARCUS
(Unfazed)
Can't be.
TREVOR
(Trying to work the hand)
Not moving! What am I going to do with only a left hand when I get to the other side?
Marcus takes a CIGARETTE from a box with a circular barcode, smoking casually.
MARCUS
Head over to the hospital. They'll fix you up.
TREVOR
It's on the other side of the damn road.
MARCUS
So, help yourself.
TREVOR
Just go! That'll fix me up.
He turns to leave, hesitating when he sees Trevor whimpering in pain. 
MARCUS
Bandage that up.
Marcus walks offscreen. GRAVEL CRUNCHES until the moment Marcus disappears. Trevor walks to his backpack, disoriented, and rifles through. His fingers brush an old ETCH-A-SKETCH. He smiles to himself. He pulls out GAUZE and wraps his hand, setting it into place.
TREVOR
(To himself)
Cynthia won't like this. One hand's no good for being a father. 'sides, other side don't mean as much with one hand.
A frazzled looking man jogs into frame. He wears tight clothing, and moves in a wiry manner, a messenger bag across his body. He is HENRY. He smiles brightly upon seeing Trevor, and grabs his bandaged hand, shaking it with enthusiasm.
TREVOR
(Excruciating pain)
God in Heaven! Can't you see?
Henry jolts back, spotting the injury.
HENRY
Sorry! I was excited. Marcus talked to me. Couldn't wait to meet you! Told me all about your little stunt.
TREVOR
(wary)
You know Marcus well then?
HENRY
Not from Adam, but he seemed shaken. I heard his piece, now here we are.
Trevor brings his fingers to his temples, strained and disappointed. He sighs.
TREVOR
I know it's stupid. So have a good laugh before I call it off. It's no wonder she's go...
Henry starts, grabbing Trevor by the shoulders, bursting with energy.
HENRY
Au contraire my friend. It's a capital idea, revolutionary I might venture.
Henry spots the cat sleeping and gets distracted. Trevor's voice grabs his attention.
TREVOR
Truly?
HENRY
Without question. Wars don't stop themselves. You're a deep thinker. You care more than everyone else. Much like myself. Would you be so kind as to provide your address, for future correspondence?
Trevor holds out his hand, expectant. Henry takes out a worn, unlined piece of paper, handing it to Trevor. Trevor feels his shirt pocket, searching for a pen. He locates a FIBER TIP PEN, and begins to write his first name and ZIP CODE. After a few seconds of writing, we hear BONE CRACKING. Trevor's remaining hand has been broken.
TREVOR
AAHH! Just my luck. Get out of here.
HENRY
Oh, that's not a problem. Just let me...
Henry moves in to grab Trevor's wrist, but Trevor stumbles back and raises a knee in fear. It hits Henry in the chest, and he backs off, hurt. He stares at Trevor, saddened.
TREVOR
You heard me. Leave! You mucked it all up.
Henry leaves, head bowed, and vanishes. Trevor bandages his hand in a nearly identical fashion to the first time, using his teeth to pull it tight now. He pulls a BOTTLE OF OLD VALIUM from his bag, trying to open it. He gives up and sets the bottle back in the bag. He then looks up. He spots a woman on the other side of the road, walking.
TREVOR
(Running to the edge of his side)
Cynthia?!
The woman keeps walking, turning her head, but not fully looking back. A little girl runs behind her, laughing. Trevor attempts to run alongside, but she moves away. Trevor trips on a small rock. We hear BONE CRACKING.
TREVOR
Wait! God wait! It can't be this way. Susie, look at daddy.
Trevor kicks the gauze to the other side of the road, where it unfurls. He looks down at his now broken foot, then across the road to the gauze. His shoulders fall in despair. He attempts to get up using his two broken hands but stumbles back, landing on the bottle from the first scene. GLASS SHATTERS. Trevor screams, and rolls over to relieve the pain. CLOSE UP of GLASS SHARDS inches from Trevor's eyes in the grass. He struggles forward slowly on elbows and knees, grunting. He sits down, keeping his back straight.
TREVOR
Take a breath Trevor. Not to worry. Keep your head on straight. That's your problem. Always flying off the handle. That's what she'd say. It's nothing but a trifle. Rather hot out here. Can't think in heat like this. 
He crawls on elbows and knees over to a tree, and slides his elbows along his back, dislodging some glass.. He tries to slide out of his shoe. It becomes too painful and he stops, lying flat, unable to support himself.
TREVOR
(Really worried now)
It's a bruise. Nothing but.
Trevor's eyes grow wide as he becomes aware of something beneath him. Reaching under himself, he slides out his kitten with his elbows. It is still, its neck bent sideways. It is still. Trevor breathes heavily, trying to compose himself. Suddenly, he begins bawling, hitting the ground and flailing. He glances at his backpack and frantically attempts to unzip it with his teeth. It proves futile. He kicks his unbroken foot against the ground, and lets out a loud grunt, enraged. BICYCLE TIRES CLICK  offscreen. Trevor raises his head and sees a man in the distance, riding fast on a BICYCLE toward him. As he nears, Trevor stretches, holds up a hand, waving it.
TREVOR
(through tears)
Watch out! I'm busy changing the world.
The BICYCLE comes toward Trevor with increasing speed. 
TREVOR
Can you hear?
The bike skids over TREVOR's other ankle, and we hear BONE CRACKING. The bicyclist steals the backpack and continues on. BICYCLE TIRES CLICK until the second the bicyclist is out of sight. Trevor's sadness morphs into anger.
TREVOR
(Shouting to the thief)
AAHH! Hey! Hey! What the hell?! I'm practically Ghandi. You wouldn't run over Ghandi.
Trevor lies on his back, helpless and defeated. CRUNCHING GRAVEL is heard. A woman stands over Trevor, dressed in a red flapper dress and a black hat  with a red bow, which suits her well. She has a natural glow of life about her. She is CYNTHIA.
CYNTHIA
What a mess! Crossing don't mean a thing now.
TREVOR
Don't mock me.
CYNTHIA
Can't even stop a little war.
TREVOR
I did my best didn't I?
CYNTHIA
It don't mean a thing to me Trevor. And it certainly don't mean a thing to your little girl. Come here.
TREVOR
I've no time for this.
CYNTHIA
You got all the time in the world actually.
Cynthia walks over to the newspaper previously mentioned. Trevor follows, seriously struggling and panting now. She picks up the paper and hands it to Trevor, who rolls onto his back.
TREVOR
What's this? Shall I have a look at the funnies?
CYNTHIA
The headline will do, I should think.
INSERT:
Headline reading "WHITE HOUSE ANNOUNCES THE WAR IS OVER." Beneath it is a black and white picture of an American flag.
Trevor looks up, squinting, his head slightly tilted.
TREVOR
(Unperturbed)
Isn't that a kick? It worked then. I can cross.
Cynthia bursts into laughter.
TREVOR
What?
CYNTHIA
(Pointing to bandages)
Oh nothing.
(BEAT)
I just disagree.
TREVOR
How long does it take a bone to mend? 
Cynthia shrugs. She turns to walk off.
TREVOR
(Questioning)
Wait! Let me ask you something.
CYNTHIA
(BEAT)
Spit it out.
TREVOR
If I had really done it, you know, the right way, would you have come back?
Cynthia sighs, and purses her lips.
CYNTHIA
That's complicated.
TREVOR
Right. So I'll take that as a maybe then.
Cynthia frowns, fiddling with a class ring, engraved 1961. She chooses her words carefully.
CYNTHIA
I suppose you could. Or you suppose you could. I suppose.
Cynthia giggles at herself, but her smile slowly fades. She looks at Trevor, a little sadly.
TREVOR
I think I've figured out what comes next.
CYNTHIA
I'm listening.
TREVOR
(Sure of himself)
I'm going to stay on this side of the road until the fighting starts back up again.
For a moment or two, Cynthia and Trevor lock eyes, and all seems to be well between them. 
Cut to:
A shot identical to that of the very first scene, with Trevor curled in a ball in the same spot. He rambles inaudibly. A  man walks by, dressed in 2000's clothing, and stares at Trevor, confused. There is no paper, radio, or bag in the shot. His bandages are all gone, but he is still whimpering. The man walks away, shaking his head. A WHITE PRIUS drives by. 
SUPER
TREVOR'S WAR is seen while the car slowly drives by
FADE OUT.